


East Midlands Parkway

by Million_Moments



Series: Harry verse [8]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Family, Humor, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 13:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3938530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Million_Moments/pseuds/Million_Moments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Harry verse fic. Richard learns a few misconceptions his son has about the world whilst waiting at East Midlands Parkway. Set between “Family Tree” and “Fur ball”, and mentions events in Baby Stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	East Midlands Parkway

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get back into Harry verse. I actually had this idea ages ago but forgot all about until I was scraping around for a nice easy idea for the series!

The snow suit sent by his mother at Alex’s birth had guilt tripped them into booking tickets to England to visit for Christmas. It was a hell of a time of year to travel, and a hell of a trip with two small children. They had flown from Guadeloupe to Paris, an 8 hour affair where one of them had nearly always been on their feet, walking up and down the aisles in an attempt to sooth Baby 2 and keep her quiet. Though they had secured a bassinet for the flight, she woke and cried each time she was placed in it. Pacing was the only method of getting her to sleep and avoiding the wrath of their fellow passengers.

Landing in Paris, they had 30 minutes to change terminals to get on board their flight to East Midlands Airport in the UK. Harry had not helped this transfer process, because he had wanted to examine every plane he could see through the window and could not seem to understand the need to hurry. Though far too old, and too heavy, Richard had no choice but to eventually pick up his son and manhandle him through the terminal. His back was unhappy with this, a fact it made clear on the very turbulent flight to Nottingham in which the seatbelt sign remained permanently illuminated.

Richard’s father hated driving when there was even the remotest possibility of ice. And because there was a good chance of there being ice, what with it being December and all, Richard hadn’t dared ask him to drive all the way from rural Leicestershire to pick them up at the actual airport. And Camille had refused point blank to let him rent a car, claiming he would be too tired and end up crashing and killing them all. The way he currently felt, she was probably right.

As a consequence they made their way to East Midlands Parkway, a railway station built for the express purpose of serving the airport but somehow still miles actually from it. From here they could take a train to a location from which a taxi to his parent’s would not be an extortionate affair. Despite being so new and modern, the station was not located at the most inspiring of locations, over shadowed by the cooling towers of the coal burning Ratcliffe power station. And for the main public transport link to the airport, it was also rather dead. There was a single, tiny, café being manned by a bored looking teenager. The only food on offer apart from sweets and crisps was a single limp looking _pain au chocolat._ Richard went with getting them all crisps. Tea for him, coffee for Camille, juice for the kids.

He did this because they had a long wait. A wait his wife was not happy about – he could tell from the set of her shoulders and the annoyed glances she kept throwing him. Richard had booked advanced tickets – not wanting to pay the exorbitant prices offered by East Midlands Trains on open returns. Of course, to ensure they were able to catch the single train that their tickets allowed them to travel on, Richard had to give them a lot of leeway between the flight landing and train leaving. Three hours leeway is what he had chosen – and they still had two ahead of them.

“Daddy why are we here?” Harry asked as Richard was lifting the mug to his mouth, forcing him to put it back down again to answer.

“That is a very good question, my sweet boy,” Camille said before Richard could respond. Yes, definitely annoyed.

“We are here to pick up a train for the next stage of our journey Harry, but there is a little while to wait for it first. You might want to read your book or play your game.”

Harry looked around him, “But where do we buy the train?”

“We aren’t buying the train Harry, we are just taking it. We have tickets for it,” Richard explained patiently. He smiled inwardly at the idea of purchasing an entire train – but resisted the urge to laugh because he didn’t want Harry to get shy about asking questions.

“But _where_ are the trains?” He asked again. “Can we see them now?”

Richard took a couple of gulps of his tea, even though it burnt his tongue, and said “They are out on the platforms. Here, they’ll probably be one along soon, do you want me to take you to see it?” Camille could probably use a break, especially since Alex was now sleeping. He held out a hand, unwilling to let Harry run free as the child had never been in a train station before that he could remember. Luckily his son was young enough that he didn’t object.

Glancing up at the boards Richard saw there was one due in a couple of minutes to London St Pancras on the nearest platform. The weather outside was miserable and colder than anything Harry would have ever experienced, but he was well bundled up and Richard thought it might be character building to stand on a platform for a train as his father had so many times. Once on the platform, whose only other occupants apart from them and the guards were a scruffy looking young man with a massive rucksack and a businesswoman who looked desperately in need of a cigarette, Harry assumed a bemused look.

“But where will they come from Daddy?”

“Uh,” Richard paused to get his bearings, eventually pointing up the track towards Nottingham at the same moment the lights actually became visible. “Oh there it is now!”

Harry looked to where is father was pointing and his jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God.” He said, beginning to wriggle on the spot with excitement. Richard knew his son was fond of his train set provided by his grandfather, but he hadn’t expected the real thing to elicit quite such a response. He’d certainly never heard Harry take the Lord’s name in vane (as Catherine would say) before. “OH MY GOD!” He shouted now. “TRAINS ARE REAL!”

The other four occupants of the platform all turned to stare at Harry – not that Richard noticed immediately, because he too was staring at his son in confusion. Harry was now doing a little dance, whilst still gripping Richard’s hand. “What do you mean?” He asked his son.

“TRAINS ARE REAL!” He shouted again joyfully, as the engine and 8 carriages pulled up on to the platform. “I didn’t know they were in the _real_ world. And we are going to GET TO GO ON A TRAIN BECAUSE TRAINS ARE REAL THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER.” Harry pointed at one of the bemused guards who was waiting to signal the train to leave. “ARE YOU A REAL TRAIN GUARD?” Harry shouted at him.

“Harry!” Richard cautioned.

His son took a calming breath and tried again, “Excuse me, Sir, are you a real train guard?”

Luckily for Harry his question was directed at the Guard who could answer, because the young woman working with him was doubled over with laughter and barely able to walk as she moved down the train securing the doors. “Why yes, me duck, I am a real train guard. Are you getting on this train young man? Because if so you need to do it now because it is nearly ready to leave.”

“No, we are taking a different train,” he told him excitedly. “I hope it is a purple one,” he added as an afterthought.

“Well then,” the guard said. “Could you perhaps help me by blowing this whistle nice and hard when I say?” Harry nodded solemnly, accepting the whistle as if it was made of gold. When the guard gave the nod, he blew on it with all his might, and squealed with delight as the train proceeded out of the station. Richard, who was completely baffled by his son’s reaction, now feared the excitement may be too much for the child and decided to take him back indoors. He thanked the guard, got Harry to thank him as well, and hurried his son back to the café.

As soon as he could see his mother Harry ran towards her and said loudly, “ _Maman_ did you know trains are real?” Richard held his breath, but Alex was used to Harry’s excited squealing and slept through.

That gave Camille pause, “Yes, my sweet boy. Didn’t you?”

“No,” he said, clambering up on to the chair and looking a little crestfallen.

“But you have a toy train,” Richard pointed out, still miffed.

“Daddy I have a toy dragon as well, but they aren’t real,” Harry pointed out, smug in his logic. Then a cloud of fear passed over his face and he peered out of the window and into the clouds, “They aren’t real, right?”

Both his parents jumped in to assure him that dragons remained imaginary. “What about the trains you have seen on the TV?”

“I’ve seen dragons on the TV-“

“Ok!” Richard said, holding up his hands in defeat. Now he considered it, Harry did largely watch cartoons and kids movies. But still…some of those had to have been live action with a real train? Didn’t they? He couldn’t think of an example off the top of his head.

“There are no trains on Saint Marie,” Harry said, arms crossed.

“Saint Marie is too small to need trains, darling,” Camille said gently.

Harry huffed in annoyance, but seemed willing to accept this. “Will there be more trains soon Daddy? Can we go out and look at them again please?”

Richard was reluctant on two counts. Firstly, the weather was still miserable out, and he didn’t want Harry catching cold. Secondly, he was a little bit embarrassed that he had somehow raised a son who had only just realised trains were real at 6 years of age and thought the less people who knew this the better. Harry might keep announcing it to strangers on the platform if they went out, and he’d find himself stumbling to explain his son had grown up on a small island with no trains to stop them thinking he had just been keeping Harry in the cupboard under the stairs.

“Well it is quite cold out Harry,” he began, but was quickly cut off by his son.

“There are big windows there Daddy!” He pointed out, and indeed there were – one wall of the lobby was glass that looked out on to the various platforms. “Can’t I go over there and watch the trains please? I promise I won’t go outside or talk to strangers!”

Camille shifted her chair so she had a better view of the windows and gave Richard the nod. He supposed they did still have – he glanced the clock – a whole hour and forty five minutes left to pass. “OK, but if we tell you to come back you come _right away_.”

“Thank you!” He kissed his mother quickly and scampered off, pressing his face up to the glass. Richard winced and hoped it didn’t leave an impression.

Richard watched him a little longer, and determined that his son did intend to stay put. He then turned to his daughter, still soundly asleep. He stroked her face and she smiled gently. Hopefully he would manage to raise her to know trains existed in the real world...He frowned, and said to Camille, “How could he _not_ know that trains are real?”

“Well he hasn’t seen one before, obviously,” Camille pointed out. She didn’t seem bothered at all.

“But you would think he would have been presented with enough evidence to be able to conclude they were a real form of transport,” Richard argued. He stared at his now cold mug of tea for a few moments, before sighing and telling Camille, “Maybe he isn’t as smart as we think he is…”

“Richard, how could you say that?” Her admonishment was immediate. “You’re still fallible at your age, I think Harry can be forgiven for making a mistake at 6!”

“I suppose…” He said, though he was still concerned.

“Doesn’t your Dad do something with steam trains? Perhaps he can take Harry out one day if they are running. He’d probably like to look at them even if he can’t have a go.”

Yes, yes his Dad did do something with steam trains. His Dad was the one who had gotten Harry the toy train. His Dad would also absolutely die of mortification if he found out his grandson hadn’t known trains exist. “Oh God, Dad cannot find out about this! He’ll never forgive me.”

Camille winced, “I don’t think we can avoid it, given how excited Harry is.”

Richard groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. Camille was right, of course, it was inevitable. “Christ, what if there is a whole ream of things he has never seen with his own eyes on Saint Marie so he just assumes don’t exist?”

Camille rolled her eyes, “Well just ask him and set him straight!”

“Good idea!” Richard turned to call their son back but Camille immediately forbade him.

“He’s entertained right now and thanks to you we still have a long wait ahead of us. You can question him when he gets bored of the trains.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was actually hunger that eventually drove Harry back to them 30 minutes later, rather than the excitement of trains having worn off. He took an agonisingly long time to pick what pack of crisps he wanted, as the unfamiliar brands seemed to cause some kind of crisis. As he happily ate Hula Hoops off his fingers, Richard decided to broach the topic.

“So, Harry, what else do you think isn’t real?”

Harry frowned, “Well lots of things…dragons, mermaids, Spiderman, my little ponies…” He reeled off. Richard just gestured with his hand that Harry should continue. His son sighed, in a manner not dissimilar to Richard which caused Camille to smile, and carried on, “Giants, leprechauns, Hogwarts um, what else, oh adultery!”

“Adultery?” Camille and Richard both said at the same time. Richard couldn’t think of what to say next, such was his panic, and so his marvellously calm wife took over. “Harry, darling, what do you think adultery is?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know really. I heard Uncle Dwayne use it saying how it was bad for kids, and I asked about it and he just ruffled my hair and said ‘don’t worry it won’t ever be a reality in your family’ so I thought it was something that wasn’t real. Like Spiderman.”

Richard shared a look with his wife, and they both silently agreed that Harry could go on believing that. Camille just gave him a small smile and said, “Oh well that’s ok then. Anything else my sweet boy?”

“Do I _have_ to keep listing things?” Harry asked.

“There can’t be that many left,” Richard encouraged him. “Anything you have seen in books or on TV that you haven’t seen on Saint Marie, so you think isn’t real?”

Harry stuck out his bottom lip, mulling it over. “Vegimals,” he offered with an air of finality, naming creatures from one of his preferred TV shows. Richard nodded with satisfaction, and then Harry added, “Oh, and zebra.”

Two things disturbed Richard about this. The first was, of course, the fact that Harry though zebra weren’t real. The second was Harry’s pronunciation – _zee-_ bra, rather than the British _zeb_ -ra. He decided to let the latter go for the moment. “Harry, zebra are real. They live in Africa.”

Richard had expected Harry to be delighted, in the same way he had about the train, but instead his son rolled his eyes at him. “Don’t be silly Daddy, of course zebra aren’t real!”

“But they _are_ Harry,” Richard said insistently. Harry looked to his mother, who nodded in confirmation.

He pointed a finger at his parents. “You can’t trick me!” He told them. “You told me animals come about because of devolution – “

“Evolution,” Richard corrected.

“Oh,” a small blush tinged his son’s cheeks. He hated getting words wrong, Harry was very proud of his vocabulary. “Is devolution to opposite of evolution?”

“Depends on your political views,” Richard quipped, only to realise his audience was unlikely to get the joke. “I’ll explain another time – what were you saying about evolution?”

“You said animals come about by evolution, which means they have special skills and stuff to survive in a particular place. And that is why England has different animals from Saint Marie.”

“That is right, and zebras are adapted to live in Africa, on the savannah.”

“But Daddy, nothing would evolve to look so silly! How is being black and white and stripy going to help in Africa?”

“It’s for camouflage,” Richard supplied, a fact dredged up from his memories of school.

Harry crossed his arms and shook his head sadly. “Africa isn’t black and white Daddy! The lions would be easily able to spot them and eat them all. Then they would be extinct.”

The problem Richard faced was that he couldn’t remember exactly how the stripes were supposed to help. On the face of it, his son was making quite a logical conclusion – one leading him to dismiss the existence of an entire species though. He turned to Camille for help. “Truly, Harry, zebra are real,” she tried.

He just stared at her. It was obvious he thought his parents were trying to play some joke on him. “Can I go back and look at the trains now?” He enquired.

Richard, at a loss, simply nodded. “I suppose zebra are quite funny looking creatures,” Camille offered, as Harry skipped off.

“Have you got the tablet handy?” Richard asked.

His wife nodded, retrieving it from the hand luggage. “You going to force him to watch movies of zebra?” She asked.

“He has seen movies of trains, he still thought they were imaginary! No, I am looking up the opening times of Twycross Zoo. Our little doubter won’t be able to deny their existence when they are grazing in front of him.”

 

* * *

 

 

His mother and father had been slightly bemused by Richard’s suggestion of a family day out to the zoo. It seemed much more of a summer activity, not really meant for days when icy rain could fall from the sky at any moment. But Richard insisted, who knew when they would next be in the vicinity of a zebra? And his father was eventually persuaded his grandson could not go on believing zebra weren’t real. Alex was much too young to understand what she was looking at, and in fact spent most of her time showing off to her grandparents. Unfortunately that showing off consisted of “look at how far I can chuck toys out of my pram and force my poor parents to retrieve them”, with several ending up in puddles. Harry was really enjoying it though, especially when he got to watch the penguin parade.

Richard had not let Harry know they would be seeing zebras today. He wanted it to be a surprise. Camille had muttered something about how he shouldn’t take pleasure in proving his son wrong, but Richard didn’t see it that way. As they got closer to the zebra enclosure, Richard began to find it difficult to contain his excitement, and passers-by probably thought he _really_ liked zoos.

Finally they rounded the corner to the zebra enclosure. And there they were, African animals stuck in the drizzle of the United Kingdom. For a moment Richard felt sorry for them, and could almost empathise – it was sort of the reverse situation from when he had first landed on Saint Marie. But they seemed happy enough, grazing away. “Well would you look at this!” He cried loudly. “Zebras!”

Richard turned to his son to see the look of amazement he was sure would be there. Only to instead find himself the recipient of one of the dirtiest looks he had ever received. “You’ve taken the joke too far now Daddy. You shouldn’t have gotten the zoo people to paint those poor horses black and white!” And with that statement, Harry marched straight off past the zebras and on to the bonobos.

Richard decided to give up then.  

 


End file.
